


Long Live The King

by Rose_Aika



Series: Asylum Short Stories [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Asphyxiation, Character Death, Climate Change, Corruption, Gen, Magic elements, Royalty, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25706659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_Aika/pseuds/Rose_Aika
Summary: Whoever holds the crown controls the realm. When one ruler passes onto the next, there is a slight temperature change. However, more severe changes take place if the crown is stolen, or forcefully taken from its rightful owner.
Series: Asylum Short Stories [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762744
Kudos: 2





	Long Live The King

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Welcome back! I apologize for the wait! This story is a small excerpt from book 2. Shortly after the death of the king, everything goes to shit. The ending is always positive, but what about the immediate aftermath?
> 
> As always, please check out Phoenixaikaart and rose.aika.art on Instagram for more!

Cracked limestone and burnt tapestries illuminate the harsh light of mechanical sparks and pure fire as the battles continued on. One final look at the castle, built with the bare hands of an unfiltered imagination. It had been meant to last for an eternity, but as the bullets hailed and the structure crumbled, it was clear that there would be no hands to rebuild it. No magic to restore its authority over the kingdom. With the stones falling, it was clear that the king was dead. A cold rush had struck through everyone, enemies and allies alike. Snowflakes started to fall from the void-like sky, as dread filled the hearts and lungs of Lucifer’s army. Rushing from the scene, a lone soldier climbed the ruins to discover upon himself a pain unrivaled from all emotion. Before him lay his leader, fallen over on his throne. 

A sudden flash had blinded the soldier as he ran towards the scene; however, in the aftermath stood two men he didn’t recognize. One, grey and brittle, slumped over himself as the body started fading. White hair dissolved to black and pale skin stained grey. To his right, a confident man picked up an object that had fallen, and he had started mumbling to himself. The soldier, assuming the man was grieving, took a tentative step forward. The man heard the echo, went still, and slowly turned, placing the object upon his head. 

Another flash.

When the soldier opened his eyes, it was to an unspoken terror. The vacant feeling was gone, replaced with an instinctual urge to run; run as far away as physically possible. And yet he stayed, frozen in time. The murderer was overflowing with energy, and with a wave of his hand, a powerful force had gripped the soldier’s throat, dragging the poor soul towards him. 

The soldier kicked and pulled against this imaginary force, his breath limiting as the grip around his neck tightened. Stone and fabric fell from above; the castle was collapsing without Lucifer’s hold. The few snowflakes at the entrance had quickly evolved into a roaring blizzard, freezing temperatures turning the labored breaths of the soldier into wisps of mist in the open air. 

“One… one little messenger to broadcast my command. If only you had come any later. I would’ve taken pity upon you.”

The man snorted and erupted into a laughing fit, practically bending himself in half at his own joke. Abruptly, he fixed his position, a rigid and unnerving expression overtaking his laughter. Silence filled the stagnant air. 

Soon enough, in the distance, metal could be heard scraping against itself. 

“Oh boy. More toys. I can’t wait to see what this crown can do.”

The soldier, already cold and unmoving, was torn to pieces, revealing his soul. The terrifying man swallowed it whole and sighed, his body glowing with pure energy. It was a forbidden rule in the land, to not partake in the soul of any creature, and yet with no ruler to enforce said rule, the man was sure there would be no guilt on his conscience for just one morsel. 

The metallic scraping grew louder as yelling could be heard alongside it. Lucifer’s army was retreating back to him. What they were too late to save was the crown, now crooked atop the new king’s head. The air was charged with energy as the ground cracked underneath the pressure that the new ruler was summoning. As the energy peaked, he uttered,

“Destroy them.”

The ground split from where he was standing, a deep crack swallowing the charging remnants of Hell’s army. The castle continued to crumble down into the cracks as snow and ice consumed the land. Within moments, the entire landscape of Hell was transformed into a frozen tundra, icicles the size of trees skewering unsuspecting citizens. In a short span, Hell had fallen under a new ruler. One unafraid of bloodshed and with nothing else to lose.


End file.
